I fully expect some groans and immediate dismissals of this week’s column and perhaps me.
There is nothing more boring than a cliche.
But as I once claimed to be in the ill-advised days of blog writing - do people still do that? - I am a cliche embracer and, by jove, I’ve gone at it this year. Well, as far as the year is only one week old.
But that really is the crux of the cliche.
I have openly embraced the tired and predictable adage of New Year New You - sure to fail by month two - the ultimate in new year cliches.
Kicking a plethora of harmful and expensive habits I have adopted an equal amount of, hopefully, less harmful but equally expensive pastimes.
My fridge is groaning under the weight of gradually decaying fresh produce. The slidy drawers - the ones at the bottom, usually home to a shrinking lemon and a wayward tomato - are now jammed shut, full of unbearably nutritious goodness.
This is just one of the expected behaviours from a cliches new year-er. A combination of events led me to this sorry state of affairs.
Firstly, a most desired new kitchen gadget - the Spiralliser.
Affectionately noun-ified by myself, it has had me turning every veg possible into spaghetti like strands of goodness.
Crisps, burgers and cheese, notably do not spirallise effectively, a helping hand in the direction of nutrition - of which I am now an expert, a self-confessed one at that, thanks muchly to Jamie Oliver’s midlife crisis and personal trainer friend, Panthera Performance’s Jon Reid.
Asked to look over his soon-to-be-available booklet Nutrition Simplified, I have absorbed the knowledge and unlike him, am willing to preach the benefits to whomever is unlucky enough to be in the same airspace.
But seriously - it was a revelation to me and not just aimed at those who are already clued up on fitness and such like, but it is a really easy read and a great way to understand food...here I go again!
Couple that with a full schedule of fitness classes and I am insufferable.
I have always been a gym go-er but have started 2016 with a gym vigour previously unrivalled.
Trying out every new variation of exercise available for the exorbitant small fortune Virgin Active take in return, has turned much of my conversation to mush (Zuu? Power your body with primal movements from the animal kingdom by crawling, lunging and roaring your way through a sweat-soaked twenty minutes...)
I even bailed on a raucous party with a bunch of mates on Saturday to avoid the straying effects of alcohol and - what turned out to be - a very late night.
So, although my skin may look better, there may be a bounce - albeit a very sore one - in my step, I am very aware that if I continue talking about how virtuous I feel, the gym weights surrounding me will swiftly become the only friends I have.
Balance, as my new reading companion Nutrition Simplified, advises, really is the answer and one I shall hastily incorporate.